A Little Help
by The Owlish Olympian
Summary: Percy is new, and he and Annabeth have a great time at the neighborhood block party. But they both have secrets, and somehow, they manage to save each other.


**A/N: So I'm starting this with a heavy heart. This is M rated for suicidal thoughts/actions and self-harm. I am not proud to admit that this is a REAL story (different circumstances and such...I jumped out of a first story window, but you'll see later) with just the names replaced. I am Annabeth and Percy is one of my best guy friends in the world. This...this is how we became friends. But I think people need to know about this junk because it's **_**real.**_** Half the people who write these things don't know crap about what they're writing. Read. **

_It's so damn hot_, I think to myself, sick of the waves of heat that are radiating up and down my body. I tug my sleeves down even farther, annoyed that I want to roll them up. _For god's sake, it's July! I'm boiling in this!_

I'm wearing a long sleeved knit tee that is black and gray. Of course, the shorts I'm wearing below are helping a _lot_, but I'm still baking. This block party better be over soon. Stupid Texas.

"Hey, Annabeth!" Thalia greets me graciously. "How are you?"

I smile back at her, grimacing on the inside. I hate to lie, but what else am I supposed to tell her? _I'm doing so freaking great, Thalia. Just swell in this idiotic shirt of mine and waiting to get home because I'm bored out of my god damn mind?_

"Great, Thals. How are you? This party's awesome; your mom sure knows how to throw one," I reply, taking a sip of my iced tea and swatting a fly that's circling around the rim of my SOLO cup. She smiles in return and waves at something behind me.

I turn around to see this guy. He's new. I've only been here a month, and I can just tell. He's tall, has bright, sea green eyes, and raven-colored hair that looks like he just got out of bed. It's summer, though, so that may be the case. Anyways, he's in a light t-shirt (smart) and some denim jeans that look comfortable. I'm jealous.

"Hey, Thals. What's up?" the guy asks rhetorically before turning to me. "Hey, I'm Percy."

"Annabeth," I respond, taking another sip of tea. "Where are you from?"

Percy laughs and throws his head back like it's the funniest joke in the world before answering, "You already know I'm new, huh? I just moved from Dallas. I'm living with Thalia; she's my cousin."

I smile in return, grateful _somebody's_ finally joining me. "Cool. I'm not the newbie anymore."

"I guess so," he says, chuckling a bit more. "Who are your parents?"

I turn around to my dad and step mom and point to them. "That's my dad, Frederick Chase, and my step mom, Helen."

"Ah," he replies, grinning mischievously, "so we're neighbors, I see."

Laughing, I say, "Yeah, I suppose. What room are you in?"

"The one facing your house," Percy tells me, pointing to the window that faces...my room.

I raise my eyebrows and inform him, "Yep. I'm glad I have curtains."

"You're friends with Thalia, I can tell," he says smugly. I frown in confusion at the change of subjects, but nod in answer. Thalia—who has been mysteriously missing, during this exchange—is returning to us with a plate of crackers and cheese she got from the tables.

"Yeah..." I trail off, "I am. What's that got to do with anything?"

Thalia hands me some cheese, which I take gratefully, suddenly inexplicably **(not to be explict!)** hungry as Percy continues to stare at me with a smirk on his face.

"Oh, don't tell me he's starting already," Thalia says, rolling her eyes.

I turn to her, puzzled, and ask, "What?"

Suddenly, I feel a bunch of ice cold liquid being poured over my head and I gasp in surprise. Whipping to face Percy, I notice that it's tea. And it's his.

"You are going to get it!" I shout, running at Percy. He laughs and skirts around the temporary tents and the food tables, jumps over hedges, and runs across the street and back in attempts to escape me. Eventually, I begin to giggle uncontrollably as well and my chase becomes slower and slower as, finally, I abandon all running to catch my breath.

I look down at the white speckled table, breathing hard, when suddenly I am lifted up into the air by someone from behind. Struggling to see who it is, I demand, "What the—?"

The entire party is observing us now, guffaws of laughter sounding right and left as _someone_ carries me around the house—everyone following us—to throw me into the crystal waters of the Grace's pool. I shriek as the chilly waters envelope me and I quickly swim up to the surface, glaring at none other than Percy.

He's turned around, hands on his knees, he's laughing so hard, so I quietly get out of the chlorine-infused depths. I put a finger to my lips for the rest of the party, which is gathered under the patio awning, and knock his knees out.

Caught off-guard, he tumbles to the ground easily, letting me pin him to the hot concrete with my head held high. I smile triumphantly and Percy just laughs harder at the whole of the situation.

"Okay, Annabeth, you win," he gasps, trying to get up. I shake my head and look at him disapprovingly, frowning at him with mock confusion.

"Where do you think you're going?" I ask innocently. "I don't think you've learned your lesson yet."

Thals scoffs at us and just pours ice-water over us two. I can't resist laughing at this, now, and get off of Percy, offering him my hand. He takes it graciously and runs his fingers through his hair before giving me a one-armed hug.

"Nice one," Percy compliments me, smiling a bit.

I shrug and grin back cheekily, "I know."

We return to the front—everyone—but it's time to leave, now, at two o'clock. Percy hands me a piece of paper with his number on it. I smile and give him mine in return. Maybe we can hang out later.

"See you later, Annabeth," Percy says, waving as he walks back to the Grace's house.

I wave back and reply, "See you later."

**::**

I'm so sick and tired of this place. Born in Texas, moved to San Francisco. Move back to Texas for five years, live another year in Francisco. And guess what they told me this morning? Next year we're going to move back to California (in San Francisco) for seven months before we come back to Texas! How do people handle it? I yank out the drawer of my bureau and reach underneath my underwear to reach my single-sided razor blade.

Taking a deep breath, I repeatedly make shallow scratches over my underarm. It draws blood after a couple seconds, but I pay no attention as I move on to right above my elbow and bicep area. I marvel at the cut above the crook of my elbow, speculating the cut skin that blood hasn't gotten the chance to seep over yet. Just pure exposed flesh.

It sickens me.

I look back at my forearm's pale flesh and gasp. Oh my gods, there's too much blood. It's not going to injure me severely, but there's big drops of crimson at the tails of the cut. I dash to the bathroom, not worried that someone will see me since it's four-thirty in the morning.

Toilet paper. I strip off a few squares and dab it on my arm just to stifle the initial flow. Quickly, I stuff it in the trash can under a tissue box so no one will stumble across it accidentally and return to my room. It starts to sting, but it's not that bad. I've had worse.

I open my window a bit to get some fresh air. I really need it. It smells like rain, but I know there won't be any. It's just a Texas morning. The sun is starting to just barely luminate the sky, only just. It won't rise for another couple hours, but shadows of clouds are visible from the street light's glow.

Another window opens across from me, and I hide my left arm behind the sill I sit on before whoever it is can see. It's Percy.

He looks sad and serious. Taking a deep breath, he sits with his legs dangling off of the side. When he sees me, though, he looks panicked.

"Hey," I mutter hoarsely in the close space of houses.

Percy's eyes widen and he says, voice low and gritty, "Annabeth, get back inside. Now."

I furrow my brow at this and ask, "Why?"

"Just go, Annabeth, you don't want to see this," he whispers. I raise an eyebrow and shake my head with confusion. Why do I need to go inside?

"What? Perce, what's going on?" I demand, trying to look him in the eye, but I can't since he's staring at the ground. He sighs and looks away.

"Fine. My funeral," he murmurs at the end, glancing up at the sky before taking another deep breath and closing his eyes. My eyes widen in horror at his sentence as I realize what he's about to do.

I jump across the four foot gap (through the open window) feet first, knocking him back into his bedroom by the chest. Percy ends up falling onto his bed with me tackling him to the mattress, trying to restrain him even though he's totally still. "What the hell, Percy? Are you out of your mind?"

"Yes," he mutters, rolling his eyes.

I continue on as if he didn't interrupt, since I wasn't exactly looking for an answer. "Don't do that. Ever. If I ever catch you about to do that, then I will personally call the police for you, understand?"

Percy huffs and looks away from me in annoyance. I shake him roughly and force him to look at me. "Do you understand?"

"Yeah," he sighs, looking irritated.

I glare at him with a furiously. Then I slap him.

"Ow!" Percy exclaims, putting a hand to his cheek. "What the hell was that for?"

"For being an idiot and trying to steal your life," I retort. "You can only be, at most, what, thirteen? Tell me about this. Maybe I can help."

"I don't need a therapist," he informs me flatly.

I laugh and look at him seriously after a minute. "I'm not a therapist, I'm a _pissed_ friend of yours who is going to make sure you don't act like a freaking fool again. Okay? Talk."

Percy exhales loudly, but finally begins, "Well, I moved here because my parents died."

He looks at me, like he expects me to say something, but I remain completely silent other than, "Keep going."

He raises his eyebrows in surprise. "What? No apology people always think will fix things?"

"No. I'll get to that later," I say, "Continue."

Percy sighs again before telling me, "And my best friend who _was_ here died in a car crash last year."

"Grover Underwood," I murmur. "Yeah, he went to my future school, from what I've heard."

He nods and keeps going. "So, I decided since I don't have anything to live _for_ anymore, I would just leave and make it easier on myself."

I sit there in silence, repeating his words in my head to contemplate my answer. "Well, I'm sorry that your parents died, but I'm not sorry _for_ you; I know you don't want people to be sorry. Um—"

"How do you know that?" Percy demands.

I sigh and reply, "My blood mom is an alcoholic. She's in rehab now, but everyone says 'Oh, I'm so sorry to hear that' and I'm like, 'Yeah, whatever'. Of course I don't say that to them, but...anyways, you are such a freaking idiot, just because people you knew are gone doesn't mean your life isn't worth living.

"You have plenty to live for, okay? An education, a future of plenty friends and a family. You have your fucking self to live for. I don't want to ever hear you say that again. Grover, I'm quite sure, would be kicking your ass once you were dead because you wasted your life on dead people," I say, looking at him like he's the stupidest person in the world (he totally is, at the moment).

"Thanks," Percy mumbles after a hesitant silence. "That's what I needed to hear."

"That Grover would kick your ass?" I ask incredulously, half joking, half curious.

He snorts and answers, "No. That you're not going to put up with whatever crap I come up with."

I laugh quietly at that running my fingers through my hair. Percy's eyes grow alarmed and I look at him, eyes asking, 'What?'

He grabs my arm and I sigh. Gently, he brushes his fingers over my new wounds and asks, "What the heck is this?"

Flatly, I say, "Nothing."

"Sure. Now tell me the truth," Percy orders seriously.

I let my eyes narrow at him. "None of your business."

"Like hell it's not. You just stopped me from killing myself and you're calling me the idiot. I'm not going to make it easy and say it out loud for you. _Tell me what this is_," he emphasizes fiercely, eyes fiery and deadly.

"They're cuts," I state bluntly, not wanting to deal with this petty game of cat-and-mouse anymore. I look at him boredly. "Anything else?"

"Yeah. How did you get them?" Percy asks specifically, trying to look me in the eyes like I was earlier to him. I groan and flop down on his bed (I can't help but notice it's really soft) with my hand that he's not holding over my eyes.

"With a bloody razor, okay?" I say quickly, glowering at him. "Can you stop with the hundred questions now?"

Instead of answering, Percy wraps me in a hug, whispering, "Don't do that. You're too perfect and smart and pretty and talented to do that. You're too witty and strong and confident to do that. Please don't do that."

"I know," I sigh, answering the 'don't do that' part. Not the other part, that would be arrogant.

"Annabeth, you're only, like, twelve," he tells me.

I roll my eyes, smiling for a second. "I know."

Percy pulls away, rolling up the three-quarter sleeve I changed into for pajamas to the crook of my elbow. Looking down at me sternly, he asks, "How far do they go?"

I only sigh in response and he goes furthur until he sees the one one my upper arm. Percy just hugs me again and holds me there. It seems like hours, but it's probably only a few minutes. Eventually I relax into him and just give up. My secret's out.

"I won't try to jump out of any windows if you promise to at least_ try_ not to do this," he murmurs into my ear. I nod.

"Okay. We'll try to help each other," I agree.

I can feel him smile as he replies, "Yeah. A little help."

**A/N: So that's how it goes. Obviously, there's more to the story, but I feel like that's a good enough place to get my point across. If you are suffering from anything like this, I'm not freaking kidding: GO GET HELP. I'm not completely cured yet, and neither is my awesome friend, but we're getting through. We're trying. **

**Thank you for reading. It'd be nice to get reviews, but I'm not going to really ask for them on this because it's pretty dark.**

**-Me.**


End file.
